“Other worlds,” he mused. “Why should I care about some other world when I rule this one? What should some other world mean to me?”
“Do you want to know how you died there?” Emma said. The pain of her broken bone seared through her. She could hear battle all around her, hear Julian and Jace fighting. She fought to keep from fainting. The longer she distracted Sebastian, the better.
“You want to live forever in this world,” she said. “Don’t you want to know how you died in our world? Maybe it could happen here, too. Ash wouldn’t know about it. Neither would Annabel. But I do.”
He lowered Phaesphoros and let the tip of it nick her collarbone. Emma almost screamed from the pain. “Tell me.”
“Clary killed you,” Emma said, and saw his eyes fly wide open. “With heavenly fire. It burned out everything that was evil in you, and there wasn’t enough left to live for long. But you died in your mother’s arms, and your sister cried over you. In the club yesterday you talked about the weight on you, crushing you. In our world, your last words were ‘I’ve never felt so light.’??”
His face twisted. For a moment there was fear there, in his eyes, and more than fear—regret, perhaps, even pain.
“You lie,” he hissed, sliding the tip of his sword down to her sternum, where a stabbing blow would sever her abdominal aorta. She would bleed out in agony. “Tell me it isn’t the truth. Tell me!”
His hand tightened on the blade.
There was a blur behind him, a flurry of wings, and something struck him hard, a blow to the shoulder that made him stagger sideways. Emma saw Sebastian whirl around, a look of fury on his face. “Ash! What are you doing?”
Emma’s mouth dropped open in surprise. It was Ash—and from his back extended a pair of wings. For Emma, who had been raised all her life on images of Raziel, it was like a blow: She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring.
They were angel’s wings, and yet they weren’t. They were black, tipped with silver; they shimmered like the night sky. She guessed they were wider than the span of his outstretched arms.
They were beautiful, the most beautiful thing she had seen in Thule.
“No,” Ash said calmly, looking at his father, and plucked the sword from Sebastian’s hand. He stepped back, and Emma rolled to her feet, her collarbone screaming in pain, and thrust the Mortal Sword into Sebastian’s chest.
She yanked it free, feeling the blade scrape against the bone of his rib cage, prepared to thrust again, to cut him to pieces—
As she drew the sword back, he shuddered. He hadn’t made a sound when she stabbed him; now his mouth opened, and black blood cascaded over his lower lip and chin as his eyes rolled back. Emma could hear the Endarkened screaming. His skin began to split and burn.
He threw his head back in a silent scream and burst apart into ashes, the way demons vanished in Emma’s world.
The screaming of Thule Emma cut off abruptly. She sprawled lifeless over her Julian’s body. One by one, the other Endarkened began to fall, crumpling at the feet of the rebels they were fighting.
Jace gave a cry and fell to his knees. Behind him Emma could see the illumination of the Portal, open now and blazing with blue light.
“Jace,” she whispered, and moved to go toward him.
Ash stepped in front of her.
“I wouldn’t,” he said. He spoke in that same eerily calm voice in which he had said to his father, No. “He’s been under Sebastian’s control too long. He isn’t what you think. He can’t go back.”
She swung her sword up to point at Ash, close to nausea from the pain of her broken collarbone. Ash looked back at her, unflinching.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded. “Betray Sebastian. Why?”
“He was going to kill me,” Ash said. He had a low voice, slightly husky, not the boy’s voice he’d had in the Unseelie Court. “Besides, I liked your speech about Clary. It was interesting.”
Julian had turned away from Jace, who still knelt on the ground, staring down at the sword in his hands. Julian moved toward Emma as Livvy stared; she was slashed with wounds but still standing, and her rebels were approaching to circle around her. They wore expressions of shock and disbelief.
A scream cut through the eerie silence of dead Endarkened and stunned warriors. A scream that Emma knew well.
“Don’t hurt him!” Annabel cried. She raced toward Ash, her hands outstretched. She wore her red gown, and her feet were bare as she ran.
She seized hold of Ash’s arm and began to drag him toward the Portal.
Emma broke from her frozen state and began to run toward Julian as he moved to stand in front of the Portal. His sword flashed out as he raised it, just as Ash pulled hard against Annabel’s grip. He was shouting at her that he didn’t want to go, not without Jace.
Annabel was strong; Emma knew how strong. But it appeared that Ash was stronger. He yanked free of her grip and began to run toward Jace.
The light of the Portal had begun to dim. Was Annabel closing it, or was it dying on its own, naturally? Either way, Emma’s heart kicked into high gear, slamming against her rib cage. She leaped over the body of an Endarkened and came down on the other side just as Annabel whirled on her.
“Stay back!” Annabel shouted. “Neither of you can enter the Portal! Not without Ash!”
Ash turned to look at the sound of his name; he was kneeling beside Jace, his hand on Jace’s shoulder. Ash’s face was twisted with what looked like grief.
Annabel began to advance on Emma. Her face was frighteningly blank, the way it had been that day on the dais. The day she’d thrust the Mortal Sword into Livvy’s heart and stopped it forever.
Behind Annabel, Julian lifted his free hand. Emma knew immediately what he meant, what he wanted.
She raised the Mortal Sword, gritting her teeth in pain, and threw it.
It flashed past Annabel; Julian cast his own sword aside and caught it out of the air. He swung its still-bloodied blade in a curving arc, slicing through Annabel’s spine.
Annabel gave a terrible, inhuman shriek, like the shriek of a fisher cat. She spun like a malfunctioning top, and Julian rammed the Mortal Sword into her chest, just as she’d done to Livvy.
He pulled the blade free, her blood dripping over his clenched fist, spattering his skin. He stood like a statue, gripping the Mortal Sword as Annabel collapsed to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
She lay on her back, her face upturned, a pool of scarlet beginning to spread around her, mixing with the torn frills of her red dress. Her hands, knotted into claws at her sides, relaxed in death; her bare feet were dark scarlet, as if she were wearing slippers made of blood.
Julian looked down at her body. Her eyes—still Blackthorn blue—were already beginning to film over.
“Queen of Air and Darkness,” he said in a low voice. “I will never be like Malcolm.”
Emma took a long, ragged breath as Julian handed her back the Mortal Sword. Then he tore the bloodied rag from his wrist and cast it down beside Annabel’s body.
Her blood began to soak into it, mixing with Livvy’s.
Before Emma could speak, she heard Ash cry out. Whether it was a cry of pain or triumph, she couldn’t tell. He was still kneeling beside Jace.
Julian held out his hand. “Ash!” he cried. “Come with us! I swear we’ll take care of you!”
Ash looked at him for a long moment with steady, unreadable green eyes. Then he shook his head. His wings beat darkly against the air; catching hold of Jace, he sailed upward, both of them vanishing into the cloudy sky.
Julian lowered his hand, his face troubled, but Livvy was already running toward him, her face white with distress. “Jules! Emma! The Portal!”
Emma swung around; the Portal had dimmed even further, its light wavering. Livvy reached Julian and he slung an arm around her, hugging her tight against his side.
“We have to go,” he said. “The Portal’s fading—it’ll only hang on for a few minut
es now Annabel’s gone.”
Livvy pressed her face into Julian’s shoulder and, for a moment, hugged him incredibly tightly. When she let go, her face was shining with tears. “Go,” she whispered.
“Come with us,” Julian said.
“No, Julian. You know I can’t,” Livvy said. “My people finally have a chance. You gave us a chance. I’m grateful, but I can’t have Cameron die for the safety of a world that I’m willing to run away from.”
Emma was afraid Julian would protest. He didn’t. Maybe he’d been more prepared for this than she’d thought. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Cup; it gleamed dull gold in the Portal light—the blue light of a sky with a real sun. “Take this.” He pressed it into Livvy’s hands. “With it, perhaps the Nephilim can be reborn here.”
Livvy cradled it in her fingers. “I may never be able to use this.”